Keepers of the Stones
by Ms Arano
Summary: 15 years since the last event. 15 years since the Choice. 15 years since the Dark Spirit was destroyed...or was it? Follow Geran through a hazardous new developement. Follow up to the Mallorean [DISCONTINUED]
1. Prologue: The Dream

Okay, this is my very first story, that I'm not being forced to write, anyway, so be nice! This is basically a continuation of The Child of Light saga, or whatever you want to call it, and mainly focuses on Geran, Belgarion's son. You don't have to have read the series in order to know whats going on, at least that's what I'm aiming for. I HAVE NO PRACTICAL EXPERIENCE WRITING!!!!! This is vital to know, because this story is probably not going to be as good as I would like it to be. Reviews are nice, they are my friends. Send them to me, so I have incentive to update sooner. I need help to write this. Because I know that I'm going to hit a large wall called writers block sooner or later, so send suggestions. I know where this story is going, I just don't know how it gets there.  
  
Alright, now that THAT is all cleared up...  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Geran, Wolf, the Voice, or, for that matter anyone except for my oc's. if you can't tell which ones are my oc's, then you have some serious problems going on and need to read David and Leigh Eddings books, got it? Good.  
  
Blah = thoughts (regular in dream sequences)  
  
"Blah" = talking (italics for dream sequences/mind-to-mind)  
  
okay, I think that's all, so...  
  
One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and here we go!

* * *

Prologue: The Dream

* * *

_Lights. Swirling, dancing, glowing little white lights. At first, that's all there was. Everything else was dark and misty, a blue so dark to be black almost.  
  
Geran looked around, trying to see if there was anything, or anyone, else there with him. After searching and finding nothing, Geran sighed, and settled down to wait, looking at himself.  
  
He was wearing chain mail. Bemusedly, he looked at the rest of himself, his eyes aflame with curiosity. He was wearing leather pants, well used, by the looks of them. He had on soft Sendarian half boots on, also well used, looking about to fall off his feet before the month was out.  
  
"OW!"  
  
Geran clutched at his head. He had turned his head a bit to quickly and had bumped it against...something...He turned his head, more slowly this time, trying to see what he had hit his head against. Before he could, however, there was a sound._ What...? _It had been a wolfs' howl. One that somehow managed to be joyful, sorrowful, and determined all at once. He quickly looked fore ward again, and after a moment, a figure became visible in the darkness, walking slowly towards him.  
  
It was a boy, a little over four feet tall, maybe 12 years old. He had light, weathered skin; not tan, but not pale either. A shock of short black hair, cut just below his ears. When the boy was close enough for the light to hit him, his hair seemed to be highlighted a brown/gold. His head was down, so he couldn't see his face. His clothes were average, and in earth tones, with hints of green at his neck, wrists, and ankles.  
  
The boy suddenly stopped. He lifted his head up so that Geran could see his features. There wasn't much to see. The boys face seemed almost deliberately blurry, as if you weren't meant to see his face. The only thing Geran could see clearly, were his eyes, which were a brilliant gold, hard as rock and shining with determination.  
  
Only now that he was closer, could Geran see that...something, leaves?...were swirling around him, much like the tiny globs of dancing light were around himself.  
  
"Child of Light."  
  
Geran started. HE wasn't the child of light. To his understanding, there WASN'T a child of light anymore. He looked at the boy. The voice that had said that had come out of his mouth, but the voice...it had been deep, a gravelly sort of voice. He couldn't have POSSIBLY produced he?  
  
Geran suddenly found himself responding though. "Child of Earth."...okay, just where had that come from? His voice had been dry, amused, sarcastic, almost. He hadn't heard that voice since...since...Korim...  
  
"The Balance has been broken." Said the boy.  
  
"You and the others already knew this would happen. What have you summoned my Child and I for?" Said the dry voice again, this time sounding slightly annoyed. Geran found himself responding without control of what he said. It was as if his will had been placed gently aside, and replaced.  
  
The boy frowned. "You know exactly why. There was no Accident. You and Darkness were always there, along with your childish rivalry. I would have thought that being around since before the beginning of Time, would have pounded SOME maturity into both of you--"  
  
"Leave him be. He may be Light, but he'll never change as much as to stop his rivalry with Darkness."  
  
This speaker was a female, with a voice that was low, and smoldering, yet sweet. Only a bit over 5 feet, short hair, the strangest kind. It was blue at the very roots, blended to a fiery orange, and then at the very tips, blended to a blonde; that reminded him of Liselle. She was wearing the strangest clothes too. A red shirt that looked like the sleeves and the bottom half had been ripped off. Pants that seemed to be made of some strange blue material, and looked that if the matching red belt hadn't been attached to them, they would have fallen off, they were so large. There was also a brass chain connected to the pants, just hanging there. From what he could tell, she was only slightly younger than he was, so maybe 16 or 15.  
  
Unlike the boys face, you could see her face clearly. It was oval, with semi-prominent cheek bones. An average nose and pouty red lips. In actuality, she looked average in practically every way, except for her eyes. They were a crimson red._ ((AN: for those of you who have seen YYH, think Hiei's or Yukina's eyes. For those of you who haven't...go see it! Its awesome and my favorite anime...back to the story)) _Geran then noticed that she had tiny flames dancing around her, with one of the even resting on her shoulders, and apparently not burning her a bit._ O...kay...this is getting just a little bit weird._ The girl looked at the flame perched on her shoulder and poked, making it get up and dance with the others._ ...Never mind, it already is. I will never again have Mason get me to test-taste his concoctions before bed again, never again...  
  
_"Fire! You were not invited to this meeting! What are you doing here?" the boy yelled, sounding like a rockfall.  
  
The girl looked at him boredly. "And when has that ever stopped me before? Besides, you know that there is no privacy among us, we've been around to long for such trivialities. What were you talking to Light for? This isn't about the Balance, is it? For if it is, then I need to be here, along with the others." She looked around, as if searching for something, and apparently spotted it, for she smiled and said, "Speaking of whom, there they are."  
  
There were two others; one boy, the other a girl. Both were wearing dark brown robes, which had the look of a uniform around it. The boy was tall, VERY tall. Maybe topping 6 feet. He had dark blonde hair, cut extremely short and spiked upwards, and that was about all Geran could see of his face, because like the first boy, Earth?, his features were blurry. Geran guessed that he was older than himself, maybe 23 or so. The girl, in contrast to the boy, was short, maybe the height of his Mother, and that wasn't very tall. However short she was, even from a distance, Geran could tell she had an air of maturity and patience around her. Her hair was long and thick, pulled back into what appeared to be a braid. What really caught his attention was the fact that it was blue._ What is it with the weird hair colors? Do they have nothing better to do than dye their hair in their spare time? _As they got closer, Geran could see their eyes, and nothing else of their faces. Only the girl, Fire, had her face so that you could see it. The tall blonde boys' eyes were wide, a clear, sky blue. The girls, however...they were one of the most amazing things he had ever seen. They were a deep, ancient looking, blue, the color of the sky after a really hard rain. Now that the girl was closer, he could see she looked about 19 or 20.  
  
As the two came closer, Geran could see that a soft wind flew around the tall boys robes, ruffling them slightly. Around the girl, there was water. It was almost like a wall of rain, sleet, and snow, but the girl was dry. The water didn't dance, like the globes of light, the leaves, or the fire, but fell. It started a few inches above her head, in water, or snow, or a mix of the two. From there, it fell to around her knees, where it was like a whirl pool. A thin one, and the water never seemed to increase or decrease, but still, a whirl pool.  
  
"What's with all the huss 'n fuss, Fire?" The new boy asked. His voice was light and airy, but slightly deep.  
  
"Yes, Fire, if you would please tell us why you called us?" This was from the short girl. Her voice was low, soothing, and projected, as Geran had guessed, patience.  
  
"Why? I was just hoping for a little get together among friends, is all. After all, Light and Earth were having one, so I figured, why not call up Wind and Water and take this opportunity to have a little chit chat. And besides, I just knew it would annoy ol' Earth here." She lightly punched Earth in the shoulder. Earth ruefully smiled.  
_  
_"Knew it would be too good to be true, to have a private meeting with Light." Earth said, sounding good naturedly defeated._ ((AN: does that make sense?))_Earth cleared his throat. "As we all know, 15 years ago, Dark was Banished." Here he looked reprovingly at Geran. "This has, as a consequence, created a disturbance in the Balance. If left for long, this will destroy the Universe. You KNOW Dark guarded the Gate to Hell. It's a miracle that the King of Hell hasn't gathered his forces already to strike at us."  
  
Geran's mind was reeling. This went against everything he had been taught. Against everything he knew. Geran desperately wanted to fight the voice that had usurped his body for the time, and demand an explanation. However, he remembered what Silk had told him,_ "Don't interrupt the enemy when he's making a mistake." _He didn't really think all the strange people around him were his enemy, but he also didn't know what they were talking about. Better to be silent now, find out all I can, and rant later he supposed. He had by now, discounted it as being a dream. It was just too vivid.  
  
"We already know this. Please get to the point already, Earth." The Voice said, sounding annoyed.  
  
"Just recapping, Light. In time, in time." Water soothed.  
  
"Now as I said, Dark was Banished. But not Destroyed. You can't destroy any of us, after all." Earth continued in his rumbly voice. "What we need to do, is break his Banishment."  
  
"NEVER!"  
  
Geran was stunned. In all his experience with the Voice, and all the stories told to him by his family and friends, the voice had been calm, dry, and sarcastic. Never any emotion. But now, among his equals, he supposed that's who they were, He was acting less like part of the creation of the universe, and more like a...human. This was too much. Geran couldn't take it any more. He needed to get out of here. Now. And fast. With a panicked action, he gathered his Will, and wrenched himself from the Voice's distracted grasp. Before any of the others could react, he was running, running into the darkness...

* * *

_

Geran gasped as he sat up in bed, covered in a cold sweat. He was back in his room at the Rivan Citadel, not in the endless darkness, with the strange people that seemed as otherworldly as the Voice...that seemed to be equals to the Voice...that spoke of things that were just not possible...wryly Geran remembered his Grandfather's words. "Nothing is impossible." But still...  
  
"Is one well?"  
  
Geran looked up. It was just Wolf. Wolf had been there since the last Event, when Cyradis had to Choose between Light and Dark. She Chose the Light, and Dark was destroyed, wiped from existence in everything that was, is, or ever will be.  
  
Wasn't it?  
  
"Yes, one is well, one thanks one for asking."  
  
Wolf laid his head on his paws and looked at Geran from his place at the end of the bed. When he was 7, he had stayed the summer with his Grandfather and Grandmother in the Vale of Aldur, and had been taught Wolfish.  
  
"Has one had a night vision that startled one?" asked Wolf.  
  
Geran looked at Wolf. Wolf had been acting more perceptive and human-ish lately. Geran shrugged it off.  
  
"Yes, but one is well. One will be going back to sleep now." Geran said.  
  
"One wishes one a good sleep then." Wolf replied, and closed his eyes.  
  
Geran lay back down, pondering his dream. The images were becoming fuzzy, disorienting. He couldn't quite recall what had frightened him, but he had an ominous feeling about the entire thing. _Grandfather and Grandmother are visiting; I'll talk to them in the morning...  
_  
On that thought, his eyes drifted shut, and he slept a sleep filled with dancing globes of light.  
  
His curtains blew softly outwards in the wind, the window open to the night.

* * *

Half a world away, in Mallorea, the same wind blew, chill now, carrying the remnants of a dream. A man of maybe 30, though his face seemed ageless, turned on his horse to face the wind. His blonde hair ruffled by its embrace, his blue eyes wise, he listened to the wind.  
  
He looked to his horse, a brown chestnut color, except for a strange silvery mark on its front left shoulder. He patted its neck, and leaned down to whisper in its ear, as though it could understand.  
  
"And so it begins, Horse." said Eriond.

* * *

AN  
  
Well, how was it? Please review and tell me! big eyes please? It took me like, 4 days to come up with that, and it is...whoa, 5 pages long! I'll try to make a chapter a week, and only if I get 5 reviews a chapter! menacing look Its not that I want to do this, but the Sharp Pointy Stick of Doom wants to, and YOU aren't going to argue with it, are you? Waves sharp pointy stick around  
  
Okay, enough cliché threats Throws sharp pointy stick over shoulder  
  
ACK! Just went to 6 pages   
  
Remember to review! It's the purple button at the bottom left corner...yes, that one. Click it!! It won't bite!...hard. Just kidding.  
  
Bye!  
  
Cathy 


	2. ch 1 Of Chats and Deeds, prt 1: Old frie...

Okay uses authoress' power to make a mic appear Can you all hear me? taps mic testing, one, two, testing mic: ::SQUEEEEEEEEAAK::  
  
Ppl: ::wince::  
  
Me: Sorry! ::sweat drop::  
  
Jenna: You are such a TWIT.  
  
Me: shut up! You're not even supposed to be here yet!! ::glare::  
  
Teran: Jenna! Jenna, where are—oh, there you are, c'mon, we gotta get back!  
  
Me: You aren't supposed to be here either!!  
  
Teran: oh, uh, well...::sweat drop:: c'mon Jenna we gotta get going ::drags protesting Jenna away::  
  
Me: ::mutters:: baka onna. Okay, now that all my time has been taken up by SOME ONE ::Jenna's laughter in background:: I will now proceed to type up the first real chapter of ::trumpet fanfare:: Keepers of the Stones. Enjoy. And don't forget to review! I still need more ideas...  
  
Ppl: ::rolls collective eyes::

* * *

Chapter 1: Of Chats and Deeds: Old Friends and a Situation  
  
The sun's rays were just peeking over the rise. Wolf opened his eyes to look out the window to see the sky lighten.  
  
For a moment, he let contentment wash over him. Life was good. He had a supply of food, a pack, and a den. For a wolf, that's all you really needed.  
  
He felt movement near him. He raised his head to look at The Boy. The Boy slept fitfully, twitching his legs as if running, his face contorted in confusion and...annoyance? There was a first. He momentarily let worry tinge his mood. The Boy had been having more and more night visions lately, ones that left him panicked and disoriented, and unable to recall the night vision that caused it.  
  
Wolf sniffed. Something in the air was different. It was faint, only a wolfs' nose could have detected it. There was the scent of fire, forest, rain, and something crisp that wasn't immediately identifiable. Not just the smell was different though...it was more...tense, with apprehension, and...he sniffed again...and sense of waiting. Not bad, not good, but...necessary. This puzzled him. He needed to talk to the Alpha Female. Until then...  
  
He looked to The Boy again. While he had been thinking, the dream had gone away. _Until then,_ he thought, tongue out in a wolfish grin ((AN: couldn't resist, sorry)), _it is time The Boy got up.  
_

_

* * *

_  
  
_Geran was running. From what he didn't know. All he knew, what that something was going to happen, and he didn't want to be there when it happened._ But, then why do I get the feeling that no matter how hard I run, its STILL going to happen, and, more importantly, to me?_ he thought.  
  
"Why do you run when you know it will happen anyway?"  
  
_And lo, premonition confirmed _he thought sarcastically.  
  
He stopped running and turned to the left, where the voice had come from. There, on what appeared to be a bar stool, sat a girl. She sat indian style on it—_how does she do that?_ he thought—one elbow propped on a knee holding her head; the other arm was comfortably resting on her other knee. There was something naggingly familiar about her, but as his blue eyes met her crimson ones, the feeling vanished, forgotten.  
  
"Well..." he said, a bit confused as to why this strange girl was in his dream, "I guess I run in hopes of not being there when it happens."  
  
The girl thought this over for a moment, messing with a chain on her baggy pants. Finally, she looked up, and looked at him, saying, "But if it is meant to happen, and nothing you can do is going to stop it, what's the point? What will happen will happen, and trying to stop it is pointless and just wastes precious time. I would think standing to face it would be better then running and THEN facing it, right?"  
  
Geran blinked in shock; that actually made sense!  
  
The girl sighed and said, "But I didn't come here to have philosophical discussions with you, no matter the circumstances." She hopped off the bar stool, which promptly vanished, and walked in a circle around Geran, studying him. "Hmm..."  
  
Geran now felt not only confused, but slightly annoyed and offended with her looking him over like he was a horse and her the buyer. Just when he was going to snap at her to quit doing that, she stopped in front of him and said cryptically, "You'll do."  
  
Geran was thoroughly annoyed now. This was HIS dream, not hers; how dare she just appear out of no where, ask a question and say something that sounded like it could have come from Aunt Pol, not what appeared to be a 16 year old girl with a rather strange choice in hair colors, and not even say "Hello" or "How do you do?"  
  
_But then again_, he thought, studying her,_ she's probably just a figment of my imagination, so..._his brow furrowed._ Should I be angry at her or myself for thinking her up?  
  
Although_, he thought, noting her baggy pants, belt, chain, torn shirt and blue-to-red-orange-to-blonde hair,_ she doesn't look like any I'd think of._ He shook his head._ If I keep this up I'll give myself a head ache.  
  
_"Now then, if your done trying to decide if I'm just a figment of your imagination or not, shall we get down to business?"  
  
Geran snapped back to attention. "Business? What kind of business?"  
  
"Well, not really business, more like I talk and you nod your head even though you don't understand." She said thoughtfully. "Just like you do when your Grandmother starts talking!" she added brightly.  
  
Geran blushed. He hadn't realized it had been that obvious.  
  
"Now then, today, something is going to happen, it'll start around noon—and believe me, you will most defiantly know what it is, even if I hadn't told you when it would happen—and will end at sunset, where another unmistakable thing will happen. Got that so far?"  
  
Geran blinked. He understood, he just didn't know what the 'things' were, and why he of all people was being told of it. Wouldn't his Father or Grandfather be better?  
  
"What will those things be? That will be happening, I mean." Geran asked.  
  
"Well, I..." at this she looked apologetic, "can't tell you. It's against the rules. And besides, I want to see your face when they happen." She looked like a cat in the cream. Geran looked at her as if she had two heads.  
  
Suddenly the girl cocked her head to the side, as if listening to something. She grinned devilishly at him. "Looks as if you're about to get a wake up call." She turned to walk away. "Oh, and don't forget to tell your Grandfather about this, alright?" she said over her shoulder as she walked away.  
  
Geran watched her go before realizing that he never got her name. "Wait, what's your name?" he called out.  
  
She paused. She looked over her shoulder again, and called out, "Its Jenna."  
_

* * *

Me: Muahahaha, okay, NOW you can come out  
  
Jenna: Well finally! I thought that was gonna drag on FOREVER!  
  
Teran: ::Stuck in closet:: ::muffled:: can I come out now?  
  
Me: No, you're still in trouble ::swings the closets key in a piece of string::  
  
Teran: ::groan::  
  
Ppl: ::talking amongst themselves:: ::Man stands up::  
  
Man: Ahem, I represent the people reading this fic  
  
Me: ::blink:: ...and?  
  
Man: We, the people, would like you to GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!!  
  
Me: ::hair blown from volume of the shout:: well fine!! On with the fic!  
  
Ppl: ::Cheers::  
  
Me: ::mutters:: loud mouth

* * *

_Jenna..._he thought, as his world became a warm, heavy _some_thing on his chest, and a warm, wet, _thing_, enthusiastically running over his face.  
  
Geran opened his eyes, and came face-to-snout with Wolf, who was currently laying on his chest, and licking his face. He lifted his head. "Wolf..." He groaned, then said in Wolfish, "Was what one did to one necessary?"  
  
"What one did was not necessary, but what one did was enjoyable." He replied.  
  
Geran let his head fall back on the bed in defeat. Then he remembered his dream. "Wolf, one is going to visit Alpha Male and Alpha Female." This was what Wolf called his Grandfather and Grandmother. "Would one like to accompany one?"  
  
"Yes, one would. One has things to discuss with Alpha Female."  
  
Geran started. Wolves didn't usually have things to do. In the words of grandmother: _"Wolves play."_ They only acted seriously when there was need. Something was wrong. "Is something wrong with one?" he asked.  
  
"There is nothing wrong with one. The air itself is wrong." Wolf replied, seriously. Geran didn't know whether to take this as a good sign, for Wolf wasn't ill, or to take this as an emergency, because only something of immense importance could affect his friend this way.  
  
"Then will one get off of one's chest so that one may get up so that one may go to see Alpha Male and Alpha Female?" ((AN: translation: will you get off of me so we can go see them?))

* * *

Geran and Wolf were walking down the halls, going towards his Grandparent's apartment. It had only taken a few minutes for Geran to change in to some clothes, after trying to find something that didn't make him look like he was about to go to a formal ball. Geran loved his Mother dearly, but sometimes he really wished she would just let him choose his own clothes.  
  
He was lost in thought, trying to find some other detail from his dream, when he heard voices coming down the hallway. He looked up and saw his aspiring-cook-of-a-friend Mason, and his oldest-younger sister, Beldaren. They were chatting amiably of some recipe or other; both had discovered that they shared a passion for cooking somehow, and now when ever they were together, everyone but his Aunt Pol were lost as they conversed. They talked in half sentences, but were somehow able to understand each other.  
  
"No no no, if you do that—"  
  
"Oh, I see now, but what if—"  
  
"Right, that would—"  
  
"It'd perfect for—"  
  
Especially when you—"  
  
Geran coughed. Mason and Beldaren had nearly passed him by they were so engrossed in conversation. He really didn't want to interrupt them—it was amusing in a way, the way they acted around each other—but he needed to know where Grandfather and Grandmother were, and they were the only people he had seen to ask.  
  
Mason looked at him, surprised to see him there. Geran looked at his friend. He had dark brown hair, with auburn highlights. Wide melted chocolate eyes, that made him look like half his face was just his eyes. He was thin, almost anorexic looking, although everyone who had seen him eat knew better—he was like a bottomless pit! He was a few inches shorter than Geran, and almost always wore brown with red. He was always enthusiastic about something, almost never a frown to be seen on his face, though even then, it seemed to tip upwards; a little smile in the frown. He cared about others, a really big heart. Once you got it, his trust was always there too. You could tell him anything and he would keep it behind sealed lips even under torture.  
  
Beldaren may as well have been Mothers clone in looks. The same vibrant red hair, all in curls. Leaf green eyes, that seemed to delve into her very heart. No matter what she showed on the outside, her eyes always betrayed her. She was maybe, _maybe_, and inch taller than Mother, but that was it. Their personalities were different though. Whereas Mother was a 'I-don't- care-how-you-want-to-do-something-you're-doing-it-my-way', Beldaren was a 'please-do-it-this-way-pleeeeease?' Both of them usually got their way about something, usually by being sweet, though Mother had times before pulled out the heavy artillery and given ultimatums. Beldaren just didn't seem to need to give them. Something about her made you want to do it anyway, just to see her smile. Aunt Pol had commented on just how much she was like her twin sister, the Beldaren she had been named after. Sweet and innocent seeming.  
  
Geran shook the thoughts from his head. He had things to do. Before he could even say anything, however, the fatal words fell from Beldaren's lips.  
  
"Geran, want to come to breakfast with us?"  
  
Geran inwardly groaned. No one to his knowledge had ever been able to refuse her. It was impossible; the person trying to refuse would suddenly become tongue tied and lose his determination. He sighed, remembering dream- Jenna's philosophical advice. _Why run indeed?_ He thought. So he put on his best smile, and replied as cheerfully to the best of his ability:  
  
"Sure. Why not?"  
  
And so the four of them made their way to the kitchens, chatting along the way. Which is to say, Beldaren and Mason were talking in their half- sentences, and Geran was trying his hardest to think of a polite way to excuse himself. Wolf laughed at his plight, and ranged ahead, trying to find Grandmother. Once he found her, he would come back and tell Geran.  
  
"But how would—"  
  
"Actually I tried that—"  
  
"How—"  
  
"—was it? Ask Geran. He, ah, volunteered, to taste test it for me." Mason turned his Chocolate eyes to him. "Well? How was it?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, it was great, especially with the tang in it." Geran was snapped to the present. While he had been thinking, they had made their way to the kitchens. Geran got enough that would last him for a while, but small enough to finish quickly. Beldaren got a regular sized meal, while Mason just got a tray and piled food onto it until Geran was sure it would crack from the weight. It didn't, it never did.  
  
They sat down, and this time, Geran got out a question before the two of them could continue talking about...whatever it was they had been talking about.  
  
"Have either of you seen Grandfather or Grandmother? Or, know where they are?"  
  
Mason answered. "I saw Belgarath and the lady Poledra, along with the King and Queen, heading towards the royal gardens just a few minutes ago." He said, then, more thoughtfully, "They looked worried about something, and the king was carrying a letter, I think. It had the seal of Emperor Zaketh."  
  
I wonder if it has anything to do with my dream? He thought. He began eating his food. The faster he finished, the faster he could talk to his Grandfather.

* * *

Belgarath was sleeping. It was a nice, peaceful sleep. No dreams to disturb the tranquil silence of it. When he awoke, however, it was not peaceful.  
  
"GrandmotherGrandfatherGrandmotherGrandfatherGrandmotherGrandfather GrandmotherGrandfatherGrandmotherGrandfather" Shouted a high, squealing, joyful, LOUD voice. A small body launched itself into the middle of the bed, right between him and Poledra. Said small body then began to situate itself on top of his chest ((AN: sound familiar, ne? )), and hug him until he was sure he was blue.  
  
"I'm up, I'm up already!" he gasped out.  
  
He looked over to his wife with a help-me-please look, who just ignored it and laughed. He heard the door open and another laugh joined his wife's, though this one was exhausted. He looked up to see his other Grandchild, this one just as far removed as the one on his chest. To make things simpler, he just called them his grandchildren, instead of going great- great-great-great-great-great, ect. every single time. If he had to count all the greats' on it, they would be there all day.  
  
"Garion, help me!" he demanded.  
  
Garion, or Belgarion as he was sometimes called, got his little girl off of his grandfather's chest, and stood there with her on his hip. Garion was an average looking man. Average height, average face. Sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. To think this was the Overlord of the West, Lord of the Western Sea, Godslayer, and King of Riva. The girl on his hip was anything but ordinary looking. Like Beldaren, she had red hair, but hers had waves, not curls. Her hair was long for someone her age, 5; it was already down to her hips. Her eyes were blue, like her Fathers, but were lighter, like the sky. Her name was Ce' Lynn, and she was one of the most adorable little girls Belgarath had ever seen. This might be just his 'Grandfather' side talking, but he didn't care. She was the youngest of Garions and Ce'Nedras brood, which consisted of eight children. One boy, the oldest, and seven girls. In order of oldest to youngest, it went like this: Geran, Beldaren, Ce' Kira, Ce' Hana, Ce' Aya, Ce' Liv, Ce' Kai, and, of course, Ce' Lynn. Ce' Nedra had insisted on the traditional Dryad "Ce" in all of the girl's names, except for Beldaren, but that was because Garion had put his foot down.  
  
"Sorry, Grandfather. I tried to get her before she started running, but she was too quick." Garion said, his laughs having subsided, though mirth still shone in his eyes.  
  
Belgarath groaned. "That's the fifth time this week, Garion, and the door was locked this time! How did she get in here? I knew she was spending to much time around Silk." He muttered at the end.  
  
Garion shook his head. "I don't know how she got in here, but I'm tempted to get better locks around the citadel."  
  
"Garion, you have a letter." Poledra spoke suddenly. She looked intent. Garion loved her dearly, had since he had met her. Poledra was born a wolf. However, she had learned to shape-shift, and became a woman and wed Belgarath. The story was strange, to be sure, but Belgarath and Poledra loved each other so much, that 3000 years ago, when Poledra had been assumed dead, Belgarath had mourned her deeply until 15 years ago, when it was revealed that she was indeed, alive. ((AN: I can't really explain this really well. If you want the full story, read Belgarath the Sorcerer, okay?)) Poledra always seemed to be unsurprised, and to know things others didn't. That last was probably true. If Grandmother said he had a letter, he had a letter. Even if it hadn't arrived yet.  
  
"Okay, Grandmother. I'll take Ce' Lynn here with me, and be in my apartment with Ce' Nedra. We can wait for the letter in there." Garion said.  
  
"We'll go with you." Poledra said before Garion or Belgarath could say anything else. The tone said I-don't-care-what-you-want-this-needs-to-be-done-now-do-it. Belgarath grumbled and got up to get dressed, Poledra doing the same. Garion waited outside the door, waiting for them to finish.  
  
He looked to the giggling girl in his arms, "You, missy," Ce' Lynn giggled harder, "are going to tell me how you got into Grandfathers room...again." Ce' Lynn giggled harder. Garion waited a moment for the giggles to die down. When they did, he said, "Well?" This caused the giggles to start again. Garion sighed, "Why me?"

* * *

They were now in Garions and Ce' Nedras apartment, waiting for the letter to arrive. Ce' Nedra had taken Ce' Lynn to the nursery, which was connected to their apartment. When Ce' Lynn was 13, she could get her own set of apartments, but until then, she, and her other sisters that were still too young, stayed in a set of rooms all interconnected with the royal apartments. A rather neat way of keeping an eye on them.  
  
The minutes ticked by, and still nothing.  
  
"Well, how long is this going to take?" Ce' Nedra asked crossly. Ce' Nedra didn't take well to waiting. She never had, and she likely never will. Ce' Nedra hadn't changed much over the years. She was still as beautiful as the day she turned 16. And still as short. But while she was still beautiful, she had gained an air of maturity that was somehow mixed with frivolousness. No one was quite sure how this had happened, but it had, and with all the other things that had gone on, this was shrugged off as normal. Belgarath supposed that it came with being a mother.  
  
As if her words were magic, a light blue light began to filter the room, coalescing at the table in front of all the chairs they were sitting in. After a moment, the light flared, and sitting on the table was a letter with the seal of Emperor Zaketh of Mallorea.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Well, I guess it was important enough for Eriond to help deliver the letter." Belgarath mumbled.  
  
"Yeah, guess so." Ce' Nedra said softly.  
  
Poledra picked it up and handed it to Garion, who had a slightly blank look on his face. "Well, read it." She said.  
  
Garion opened the letter and began to read out loud.  
  
To Garion and Ce' Nedra:  
  
Sorry, but there's no time for flowery openings. There is an emergency  
going on, I don't know what, so don't think to ask me. Cyradis is at  
wits end and Eriond actually looks surprised. I know this is going to  
sound really strange, but go to your royal garden. Now. As soon as you  
get done reading this, in fact.  
  
Sincerely,  
Zaketh, Cyradis, and Eriond  
  
Stunned silence greeted the ending of the letter.  
  
"Well." Poledra said, standing up. "We better get going."

* * *

And so that is how Wolf found them. Poledra in the lead, Belgarath bemusedly behind her, Garion trying to calm Ce' Nedra down, who was currently in hysterics over the implications, or rather, lack thereof, in the short letter.  
  
"One would ask where one is going." Wolf greeted them.  
  
"One is going to the outside green space." Belgarath replied politely. One was always polite in Wolfish.  
  
"One will accompany you after one retrieves ones pup." ((AN: translation: I'll go with you after I get Geran))  
  
"One will await one." ((AN: translation: okay))  
  
Wolf looked at him for a moment before loping away, to get Geran and bring him to the royal garden.

* * *

Teran: Can I come out now?  
  
Me: NO!

* * *

Geran had managed to get away from Beldaren and Mason, and was heading to the royal apartments.  
  
_If I hear one more thing that I don't understand I think I'm likely to hurt someone.  
_  
Just as Geran thought this, Wolf came loping up. "One has found what one was looking for, and now one must come with one." ((AN: do I really need to keep doing this? I think you get it by now! Translation: I found them, lets go))  
  
"But one must hurry, there's something going on."  
  
"Going on? What's going on?  
  
But Wolf was already going. Geran muttered oaths under his breath as he broke out into a jog to catch and keep up with Wolf.

* * *

The four adults reached the royal garden, puzzled. Why would Zaketh want them here of all places? And just what was so, so, startling, that a former seeress and a God could have them upset? It just didn't make any sense.  
  
While they were puzzling this out Garion absently walked over to the two oak trees in the center of the Garden. They were intertwined together, and Ce' Nedra had planted them while they had been betrothed to each other. They were gifts from the Dryads, or rather, from the trees themselves. Ce' Nedra was a Tolnedran Borune. Many years ago, his grandfather had forever connected the Borunes with the Dryads in order to prepare for Ce' Nedra being born. ((AN: once again, you want the full story, read the books!! Sheesh...;;))  
  
Ce' Nedra wormed her way into his arms, just like she had when they were first married. "What do you think is going on, Garion?" she whispered.  
  
"I don't know, Ce' Nedra, I don't know." He murmured.  
  
Ce' Nedra sighed, "I hope its nothing too serious..."  
  
Just then, a pale blue light, much like the one from before in the apartments, filled the clearing. It was more pronounced now in the entrance to the gardens, where it formed a blue portal. Through the portal stepped 3 figures.  
  
One was an average looking man. He had sandy blonde hair like Garion, deep blue eyes, and was all on all average looking, wearing his sturdy peasant brown. However, he gave off a presence of otherworldly-ness, and of power.  
  
The next was a tall man with weathered skin. His hair was black as night, and his face was lined with past sorrow. His eyes were dark, and showed confusion, mixed with a little apprehension. However, he carried himself well, as if he knew what was expected of him and was going to give it and then some with his own flair. He was wearing a plain white robe, much like the next figure.  
  
The next figure was small and dainty, but not nearly as small as Ce' Nedra. She had blonde hair, and beautiful eyes. She also gave off a presence of other worldly-ness, but only in the sense of having seen things and gone through things no one should have to.  
  
Through the portal, stepped a God, an Emperor, and a Seer turned Empress.

* * *

Geran pounded his was to the royal gardens, and saw just in time the blue flash. He was still a ways' away, so he quickened his pace, while Wolf ran at a dead run towards the garden.

* * *

Once again ((AN: this sure is happening a lot, isn't it?)), silence reigned. Finally, Belgarath shook his head. "Where did you learn to do that little trick, Eriond?"  
  
The young God smiled ruefully, "Actually, I just made it up. But it worked out rather well, don't you think?"  
  
Belgarath looked as if he wanted to lecture him, but he refrained. Instead, he cleared his throat, and said, "Well, what's the problem? What's so cataclysmic that you had to try something completely new and possibly dangerous just to come here?"  
  
At this a soft, musical voice spoke. "15 years ago, the Sight left me, but now, it has resurfaced for one final Vision."  
  
"Cyradis, what do you mean? The only reason you got Visions was because the..." The words stuck in Ce' Nedras throat as the implications became clear.  
  
"Because the Prophesies sent them to you." Poledra finished the thought that no one wanted to think. The two Prophesies, Light and Dark, had sent Visions to the young woman, so that she may Choose between them and end an ageless division of the universe. That the Visions came to her, could only mean that there was another Prophesy, and if there was another Prophesy, they were in trouble.  
  
Here Zaketh spoke up. "Do you mean we have to go through all that again? I mean, it was kinda fun the first time around, but I don't want to do it again!!"  
  
"Actually, we won't have to, you see—"Eriond began speaking, but just then is when Geran showed up, out of breath, and with Wolf waiting for him.  
  
"What's going on? Wolf didn't—Eriond? What are you doing here? And Zaketh and Cyradis? Aren't you all supposed to be in Mallorea?" Geran turned confused eyes to his Father. "What's going on?" He repeated.  
  
"What's going on," Poledra said quietly, "Is a situation."

* * *

AN  
  
Okay, I'm sorry to leave you hanging, but that right there is 13 pages, and my back hurts from sitting for so long in this chair. Ow. But still...wOOT! I got it done in 2 days!!  
  
Teran: Let—me—out! ::Bangs against closet door:: c'mon, I've been in here all day!  
  
Me: Ah, ignore that  
  
Jenna: well, he HAS been in there awhile...  
  
Teran: I 'm hungry!!!  
  
Me: ::rolls eyes:: fine, I guess so...now where did I put that key?...oops  
  
Teran: 'oops'? What does oops mean?  
  
Me: uh, nothing! ::mutters to Jenna:: can you break that door down?  
  
Jenna: ::flatly:: you lost the key, didn't you?  
  
Me: uh...  
  
Teran: what was that? hey, why are you guys whispering?...you lost the key, didn't you?  
  
Me: I didn't lose the key! I just misplaced it...But don't worry!! Have you out in a jiff!  
  
Teran: ...  
  
Jenna: ::Looks at ppl:: ::sigh:: it might be awhile till Cathy has the next chapter up. She needs Teran for it, and he can't be in it if he's stuck in the closet...  
  
Me: Okay, Teran! I need you to get as far away from the closet door as you can! ::places bomb at closet door::  
  
Teran: but its only a 3 by 3 closet!  
  
Me: ...then just duck and cover!  
  
::BOOM::  
  
::Lots of smoke::  
  
Jenna: ::cough:: I'm leaving for my own health ::cough::  
  
::door is gone to reveal a very dusty and dazed Teran::  
  
Teran: ugh...::faint::  
  
Me: see, told you I'd get you outa there!!   
  
Ppl: ::sweat drop::  
  
Me: anyway, remember to review, if for nothing else than to wish Teran recovers from a mild concussion. ::sweat drop:: heh heh, guess I shouldn't have used a bomb, huh? Oh, and I still need ideas, AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING THE LAST CHAPTER!!!! ::happy dance:: 


	3. ch 2 Of Chats and Deeds, prt 2: A New Pe...

Chapter 2: Of Chats and Deeds: A New Perspective

_The girl paused, think over his request. "What's your name?" A simple enough request, but which name? She could tell him her real name, or the one she was born with. She decided that he did deserve to hear it, and besides, he would find out soon anyway. She opted for the one she was born with._

_She looked over her shoulder to reply to him._

"_It's Jenna."_

_Quickly she dissolved the dream-scape, letting him return to his normal sleep patterns; and the awakening he was about to get._

* * *

Jenna opened her eyes, and quickly looked to her silent companion. He was still sitting on the floor, Indian style, his mind in the dream-scape he had created, in trying to contact the former seeress, the one called...what was it? Oh, yes, Cyradis. 

She watched him for a few moments, softly singing under her breath.

Heaven bent to take my hand

And lead me through the fire

Be the long awaited answer

To a long and painful fight...

The song was by this singer, Sarah something or other. At the moment, Jenna found it very appropriate. Usually she wouldn't sing something so dreary, but circumstances...

Truth be told I've tried my best

But somewhere along the way

I got caught up in all there was to offer

And the cost was so much more than I could bear

_Damn Him!_ She thought viciously. If it weren't for Him, they wouldn't all be in this mess, and none of this would be happening.

Though I've tried, I've fallen...

I have sunk so low

I have messed up

Better I should know

So don't come 'round here, and tell me I told you so...

At this moment, her companion opened his eyes. They were a hard, clear gold. He stood up from his position on the floor, and stretched. He wasn't very tall, only just over 5 feet. Jenna was a good 4 inches taller. He only appeared to be about 12 years old, but Jenna knew better.

"Well? Were you able to get into contact with him?" he said in a deep voice that made you wonder just where it was coming from.

"Yes, I made contact and delivered the message." she replied in her low voice. "I mean, it isn't that hard to do afterall, Teran."

((AN: He he he, you had your warning, TERAN'S HERE!!!))

He shrugged, fingering the pendant at his neck. It was on a strip of leather, and set in a base of wood. In the center of the wood, was a flat stone, almost disk like, the color green. The stone it self was called the Cenjourn ((AN: pronounced: sen-shourn, with a 'z' sound mixed with the 's' in 'sen' and 'shourn' like you're breathing out. Try it.)) It was the center of all the power of the Spirit Teran was connected to; the spirit that had claimed Teran as its Child.

Jenna had a similar pendant, only she kept it on the end of her ever present chain. The chain was bronze, the base in obsidian. The stone in hers though, Honou Tsukarite ((AN: pronounced: Hon-ow su-ka-right)), was more like a gem, instead of a stone. Of course, it wasn't either, but there really wasn't a way to describe it well. It was red though, and seemed to have an inner flame that you only saw if you looked at it long enough, and even then, only to certain people.

Teran brushed his black hair out of his face, golden eyes thoughtful. "How do you suppose all this is going to turn out?" he asked softly.

Jenna silently held her pendant, studying it. Finally, she lifted crimson to gold, and said just as softly, "I don't know."

* * *

Geran stood stock still in the entrance of the royal gardens, staring at his Grandmother. His Grandfather stood beside her, while Mother and Father stood together by their trees. The three new comers were just a few feet away from them, but now he was only aware of the apprehension that had seeped into the already tense air. 

"A situation?" Geran asked, his heart sinking. _Well, there goes just shrugging it off as a dream..._ he thought.

"Yes, a situation, but its not as bad as it sounds, really!" Eriond said earnestly. "But how about we go somewhere more...private, to discuss this."

"Agreed. To the royal Apartments!" His mother seemed to have shaken off her shock at that moment, and was trying to lighten the mood by putting on a cheerful façade. She wasn't doing a very good job; everyone could hear the fear in her voice, as it shook.

"But how are we going to explain _your_ presence?" his father interjected, looking at Zaketh, Cyradis, and Eriond.

Zaketh shrugged. "Don't." he said simply.

Father looked at him strangely, then sighed and shrugged. "What ever, we'll just hope that not very many people are about." It was still only a bit past sunrise, after all. How many people could be up?

Geran then remembered that he was supposed to tell Grandfather about the dream. "Grandfather, I need to tell you something, but I think I'll wait until we get back to the rooms."

Grandfather scowled, "Is it important?"

Geran got an uncomfortable look on his face, "I think it may be connected with what's going on now."

"WHAT?!" Ce' Nedra screeched, while every one else just muttered and stared at Geran like he had broken some unwritten rule. Eriond just stood silently with a thoughtful look on his face, while Poledra, of course looked like she had known all along; knowing her, she probably had.

After a few moments of this going on, Poledra took the situation in hand. "Would this not be better discussed if we were not babbling like birds?" she asked.

_That_ stopped them.

Zaketh cleared his throat. "The lady Poledra is, as usual, correct. Besides, if we want to get there with the minimum amount of people seeing us, we had better do it quickly. The day is waning."

Silently, they made their way to the royal apartments.

* * *

It was dim, there were only a few candles lighting the room. The room itself was like the sermon room in a very old cathedral. There were however, some key differences. 

For one thing, there wasn't a cross like there was in Christian churches. Instead there was compass rose like star, each point a different color and inscribed with a language long lost to all but the Order of the Universe. In order of north to north-west, going clock wise, the colors were: white, red-orange, tan, light blue, black, green, brown, and dark blue. Another difference was that while in a church there were pews, here, there were just pads made into the floor for worshipers to kneel on. The ceiling looked like that in an observatory, able to open to see the sky.

There was only one person in there at the moment. It was a girl, and she was wearing a brown robe, monk-like. Her blue hair was uncovered, but braided and was long enough to reach her waist. She seemed to be about the height of a ten year old, but obviously older, and had an air of maturity and calmness around her, so in actuality, maybe 20 years old. Around her neck was a chain long enough to reach her navel. It was a silver chain, with a pendant on it. ((AN: I think you are beginning to see a pattern here, ne?)) It had a dark blue stone on it, that seemed to change and shift to different shades of blue, and was set in a grey river stone frame. It was called the Amanikian ((AN: pronunciation: amen-nee-kee-an)) She was kneeling on what would be the 'west' side, and seemed to be praying.

A tall man looked in the room, saw her, and walked quietly in. He had short blonde hair that was spiked upwards, and was wearing the same type of robes as the girl did. He, too, had a chain and pendant, but instead of a chain, he had a cloud white string, and a sky blue stone, set in what appeared to be ivory. His was called the Soyokaze ((AN: pronunciation: So-yo-ka-ze)). Although there were no windows in the room, with the man entered a soft wind. Said wind wafted over to the girl and wrapped around her in greeting, before heading towards the man, to whirl around him, and dissipate.

The man walked in, trying not to disturb her, and sat on a cushion on the 'east' side, just across from hers.

"Derrick." The girl greeted him, not moving from her position. Her voice was low and soothing, like water in a river.

"Rainy." He greeted back. His voice was deep and lighthearted.

The girl opened her eyes. They were amazing, a blue-ish gray; the color of the sky after a hard rain. She turned to look at him, her face serious. "Did you pack your things?"

The man looked at her mirthlessly. "Yes, I'll be ready to go when the time comes. I just wish we didn't have to go. This is going to cause their world to fall around their ears..." He murmured.

The girl sighed somberly. "I know, but it is Necessity. This _must_ happen, the balance must be restored."

"I know, but all those people..." he trailed off.

"Will live, and safer than they are now. They can adjust. If they want to stay sane." She muttered at the end. She sighed again. "But it doesn't matter if we want to or not anymore. Teran and Jenna have already made contact with the Seeress and the Child of Light. Its happening today, and we have to go along with it, to make sure it succeeds. It is Necessity that dictates this, and it will happen whether we will it to or not."

The boy closed his wide blue eyes for a moment, before saying, "Its almost noon, we have to get going."

Rainy nodded, and together, they walked out of the room, to do as Necessity bidded.

* * *

"Now, what is it you wanted to tell me?" 

Belgarath was looking at his grandson. By some miracle, no one had seen the three extra companions. _Although_, he mused, _I have a feeling an old friend had something to do with that_. He was getting to old for this, it was _supposed_ to be over when Garion killed Torak, but no, they had to become globe trotters, and make their Choices in the presence of the Sardion and the Orb.

"Well...it was a dream." Geran started. "I was running, and then suddenly there was the _strangest_ looking girl I've ever seen!"

Belgarath inwardly groaned. He was distinctly reminded of Geran's and Garion's distant ancestor, and his son-in-law. The last time he had had a conversation about dreams with a girl in it, it had been pointless. _Riva _did_ try to tell me it wasn't important though when the subject came up._

He began to describe the dream, starting with the running, then going through it until the very end. "...then she just dissappeared, and I woke up." He finished, shooting an annoyed look at Wolf, who just laughed in his own way.

Ce' Nedra looked thoughtful. "I wonder how she got her hair that way..." she got a calculating look in her eyes.

"Your hair is fine, dear." Gerion quickly said.

She widened her eyes innocently. "What ever are you talking about?"

"That's all? Are you sure? Nothing else happened, right?" Belgarath asked intently, ignoring Garion and Ce' Nedra

Geran shook his head. "That's all."

"Well, one down, one to go. Your turn, Cyradis." Everyone turned to look at the empress.

Cyradis looked at them, took a deap breath, let it out, then begain her story...

* * *

There was a house, it was large, a mansion almost. A servant came to the door, and let her in. He said, "Welcome, we've been expecting you." He led her through the house, passing many doors, though several stuck out in her memory. One was bathed in fire, another in water, one covered in vines, another the veiw of a mountain top, wind howling around it. Eventually the servant led her to a room, opening the door for her, and closing it behind her. 

There was a one man in there, hands clasped in brooding silence. He sat at a small table, a chess set on it, the white piece check-mating the black king. The chair across from his was upset, as though the person had stood up hastily. There was two doors there, one onyx in color, bolted down with chains all on it. From behind it was a wailing sound; the crying of a girl. The other door was directly behind the upturned chair, this one also locked, though to more extent than the other. It, curiosly, didn't have any color at all, nor black or white. It was as if all the color had been sucked out of it, leaving nought but a void. The door was being pounded upon, creaking at the hinges, chains groaning from the stress.

Suddenly the door burst open, monsters of all shapes and sizes running through it, a never ending tide of them, destroying all in their path. The man and she were engolfed by them, and there was a moment of sightlessness and pain. She saw flashes of places all over the world; Sendaria, a barren wasteland; Mal Zeth burning to the ground, the screams of men, women, and children almost drowning out the sound of the fire; People being eaten by those same monsters, still alive; a mother crying over her dead child and husband; and the final image, a humanoid like being in the throne room of the Rivan Citadel, holding the Orb of Aldur and four other stones on chains, cackling like a mad man, lightning thundering out side constantly.

Then suddenly it lifted, and she was back in the front of the house, only instead of the servant, there was a small boy there, maybe in his prepubescent time. He was wearing a green shirt, and a brown leather jerkin over it, with loose leather pants on. He had brown hair with strange highlights. He had golden eyes, the kind that delved into your soul and saw your heart. He then spoke in a voice that belied his age:

"You have seen some of what will happen should the Balance remain the way it is now. You have been warned. Act or perish, the Choice is yours, and you haven't much time to make it."

He then looked at her once more, and vines grew from the floor, covered him completely, then retreated, nothing there, as though he had never been.

* * *

The room was silent. Cyradis' story had left a silent pall over all of them, none of them seeming to have the ability to break it. 

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Geran looked over to where the sound was originating from. It was something called a water clock, a new invention out of Melcene, a gift to the queen of Riva.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

He could just imagine what the drips were saying.

_Hurry, hurry, hurry. Don't waste time, there's none to spare. With time comes change and change will either be the making or the end of you._

* * *

AN: 

Well, how was it? I just came up with a brilliant plan, and will be working feverishly on both my fics, although, like I said, I won't be posting the other one up yet, at least not until I'm _half_ way through it. For those of you that weren't paying attention, its a YYH fic, and, frankly, I'm having an easier time writting that one than this one. he he, guess that just the way it goes.

School just started today, ridiculasly early in my opinion (its August 10, for petes sake!), and they just started some new schedual system, thats a hybrid off the normal 7 periods and block (4 periods a day, 90 mins each), and lets just say an hour and 1/2 of English II is NOT my idea of fun, but I digress. The point of me putting this here is to inform the few people that are actually reading this fic that updates will be even less often than predicted. Normally I would just ignore school, and work on my story, put theres this little bet with my Mom...I WILL get that $50!!

One note about the story:

Cyradis Vision: for those of you that have read The Rivan Codex, you'll know that I took a page out of that for the whole house thing, only..._tweaked_ a bit, you know? I also seem to have misplaced my copy of said book, so if theres something wrong with it, reveiw and tell me, and I'll try to fix it (I DO accept annonimous reveiws)(yes, I know I butchered that word)

Well, Ja ne!


	4. Chapter Three First sign come to pass, a...

Chapter 3: First sign come to pass, await the other for ye fate...

Geran sat, moodily looked over the battlements. He had been shooed out of the suite, told not to mention what was going on to anyone, and given a glance from 3 separate people in there that paraphrased down to 'we-are-going-to-be-having-one-very-long-talk-when-I-am-done'. He had wandered around for awhile, his feet leading him up here. They tended to do that, he found, whenever there was a problem.

He looked over the battlements, across the city, and towards the ocean. His eyes drifted back to the city, towards the merchant section. He abruptly stood up, heading for the door.

He needed to get out.

* * *

Belgareth grumbled, standing off to the side of the throne. Garion was, of course, sitting on said throne, Ce' Nedra on another throne to the left of Garion. Poledra was standing next to him, calm as ever. It was the morning assemblage, and it was BORING. Who CARED if the posturing peacock droning on and ON in front of him was the count of something? He still had to pay the same taxes as everyone else. _Ye Gods_ he hated this. 

Some time later, it was all done. Everyone was waiting patiently, for Garion to leave, so that they could leave too, and it wouldn't be out of conduct. However, Garion didn't look to be doing this anytime soon.

Garion cleared his throat, then stood up. There were whispers from the crowd in front of him, but he ignored them. Instead, he looked hopefully, if not a bit awkwardly, over them. "We have one piece of business left, I'm afraid." He waited for the whispers to die down, and grinned boyishly. "Actually, they're more in the way of introductions. First, we have Emperor Zaketh of Mallorea," whispers rose to a roar, but he just raised his voice to be heard, "and his beautiful wife, Empress Cyradis."

The main doors opened, and Zaketh and Cyradis walked through, regal and acting as if they visited everyday. They walked calmly up to the thrones, and took their places next to Garion and Ce' Nedra, going over greetings for the sake of appearances. After this was done, Garion went on. "And, a dear friend of mine, the God of Angarak, Eriond."

This time, there wasn't any whispers. There was shouting (the men) and fainting (the women). Eriond just walked, serene as ever, towards them, a bright smile on his face. It had been decided earlier that the trio's presence couldn't be kept a secret, so why not just make a big show out of it? And besides, over the years, the Rivans in general had gotten used to their admittedly strange, though effective, monarchs and family. After all, who could forget the time the twin princesses, Ce' Aya and Ce' Liv, ran around the throne room squealing, while an irate princess Ce' Hana screeched at them to give her back her hair bow or suffer dire consequences, during an important foreign relations meeting? Or the time Garion was given a locked box without a key as a gift during the morning assemblage, and had struggled to open it, finally giving up and setting it down; a curious princess Ce' Lynn had ambled up to it, fiddled with it, and had handed it back to her Father, open, and missing the 'sparkly' rings inside? Oh yes, the Rivans had gotten used to many a thing over the years.

After about a minute of the havoc down below, Belgareth was decidedly irritated. He roared out, amplifying his voice, "SHUT UP ALREADY!" While it wasn't exactly the most tactful thing to say, it _did_ make the room deathly quiet.

_Why do people get so hyped up about such little things??_ he thought irritably.

* * *

Scrape. Scrape. He frowned. Not quite...scrape. There! Perfect, now, for the tips... 

Ding-ting-ting.

He didn't look up, after all, Ces would get it. He would look in a second.

"Well, hello there Geran! What brings you here?"

"Hello Miss Cessily, I just wanted to get away for a little, and, well..."

"Oh! Well, you know you can come by anytime you want, let me get my errant husband."

The sounds of footsteps, stopping just a few feet away, looking at what he was doing. Scrape. Perfect. Joran looked up from his work, to his wife, smiling. "I know, I'm coming." He said.

He looked down at his creation. It had come to him in a dream last night, and he had been itching to make it all day. He picked it up and brought it over to his visitor.

"Hello Geran, how've you been?" he said to the heir to Riva. _He's looking stressed, I wonder what's wrong? But, its not likely any of my business, unless he tells me_.

Geran gave a smile, "Oh, pretty good, and you?"

Joran smiled proudly, setting his newest creation on the table in front of them. "I just finished this." He said, proudly.

Geran looked at it, in awe of the glass master's talent. It was a living flame, frozen in time. The colors matched perfectly with it, just the right shades of red, orange, yellow, and the hint of blue. It was so real looking, his hand went of volition on its own near it, just to see if it was warm. "Wow..." was all he could say, breath taken by the exquisite work of art that seemed to flow from Joran's heart, to his fingers, and into the glass he worked. Geran looked closer, trying to see some detail worked into it, that was so subtle you nearly missed it.

Joran looked pleased as Geran leaned closer to it, trying to make it out. "Ah, so you noticed!" He went over to one of the many cabinets lining the walls, riffling through them. He apparently found what he was looking for, for he then went to the fires that ever burned. He came back to the table, a lit candle in hand. He looked at the glass carefully, trying to figure out its exact position. He moved it slightly, then set the candle behind it.

Geran gasped, a jolt going through him as the pattern became clear. Joran looked at him worriedly. "Geran? Is something wrong?"

Geran was silent a minute, staring at the glass. The pattern, was actually a picture. It was a young woman, hands above head, head leaned to the side, twirling in a dance of fire. She was wearing a strange dress, but that wasn't what startled him. With all of Joran's work, the detail was amazing. He had seen the wren he had made for Aunt Pol, and you could see the separate feathers on that.

But in this...the face of the girl...was the face...of the one from his dream.

The face was smiling, almost mockingly, the eyes closed.

Geran seemed to realize that Joran had asked him if he was alright. He mentally shook himself, and forced a smile on his face. "Yes Joran, everything's fine. Do you suppose I could show this to Mom and Dad up at the Citadel?"

* * *

_Soon, soon..._

Stormy eyes looked at the orb in her hands, face bathed in its dark blue light.

Blue-gray lifted to golden, and held. After a minute, they went back to the glowing orb, watching the scene happening worlds away...

A few minutes passed, and the light flared, giving off red, light blue, and green, to go with its azure light.

_Let it start...now_.

* * *

Garion looked up at the sound of the door opening. It was Geran, who was looking decidedly pale. Worry crossed his face, and he set down the book he had been reading. "Geran? What's wrong?" 

"I have something to show you, I think you'll find it interesting." Geran said, his voice nervous. He looked down to something held in his hands, curiosity and slight shock playing over his features. He looked around, and walked over to the candle light on the table, setting something in front of it. "Here, look at this."

Garion looked eagerly. It was the form of a flame, and etched into it, was the form of a girl, dancing. Garion whistled, "Wow, this Joran's?" At Geran's nod, he continued. "He really out did himself this time!"

"Yes, he did..." Geran agreed vaguely, looking at the glass. "But what really captures my attention, is her face." He said in an odd tone of voice. "You see, she looks just like Jenna."

Garion looked up quickly, adding up the facts. Dreams, visions, and now this. "Lets go, Grandfather is in the throne room, I believe. Kept saying it was the only place that wasn't crowded."

Belgarath sighed contentedly. Peace. Quiet. And no grandchildren. Thank god for small favors.

The doors opened, admitting Garion and Geran.

_Or maybe not_. He though dejectedly. _What is it now?_ He was about to ask that very question, when the orb erupted into flame. Of course, this wasn't unusual; it was supposed to do that whenever Garion was in the same room as it. What was unusual was that the light was multi-colored. He turned around, eyes wide. He added up the time in his head.

It was noon.

Something in Geran's hands also began to glow. His grandson then promptly dropped it, startled. But it didn't fall, it just hovered about two feet off the ground.

From around it, from it?, a wind started, bringing with it an eerie tune, of...life, that was the only way to describe it. It was at a regular pace, sometimes going gracefully, sometimes changing drastically, grating on the ears. But it...fit, felt _right_. The now glowing ball of light began, well, crying. With it, another tune joined with it, intertwining around it, seemingly different, but harmonic. This one gave off patience, peace, and sorrow. Vines began to grow from the ground, growing up to form a pedestal for the light/ball. Like the other two phenomena, it was accompanied by music. This one was stately, never rushing, giving off power and the sense of eternity that made the seven thousand year old man shudder at the thought of all those years...The music went on for a minute, nothing else seeming to want to happen, then the light/ball began to take a new shape, a lick of fire that didn't seem to burn the flora stand that it rested on. The fire whipped to a new, wild beat, joyous and free of all burden or want. There was something in it...

But, with the arrival of the fire, everything started, slowly, to get back to normal, the music still playing. The wind died some, the water dried, though the floor would still be damp, and the vines retracted into the floor, still carrying the flame. One by one, the tunes faded, in the order they had reappeared, until finally, only the last was left. The wind, water, and all signs of vines having grown out of the stone floor were gone. But the fire remained. A figure became visible in the not-fire. Twirling, jumping, running, bending, the girl was dancing. Until finally, the flame stilled, the music became fainter, and the girl danced slowly, went into a twirl, and stopped, frozen in time.

The hall of the Rivan King was silent, staring at the middle of the floor, where a glass flame stood, the figure of a girl clearly standing out in the golden red.

_First sign come to pass, await the other for ye fate..._

* * *

AN: 

Hey whomever it is reading this! Did ya like it? I hope so, I wrote it and found it okay, but a little wanting, you know?

Anyhow, reveiw me, praise me, flame me, suggest, give encouragement, just don't ignore me!! ::puppy dog eyes::

Ja ne!

Cathy

_"Be aware of wonder. Live a balanced life - learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work everyday some."_

- Rebert Fulghum


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